Black snow: Tales & poems in the snow drifts of life

(For Gina)

The snow rarely falls, and the coldness rarely touches the bones. Yet this is the wish of one who lives on the equator, longing for the white dusting. When it comes, it can be black or white. Light or dark. Little snowflakes created by circumstance. Too long has a black snow fallen, for once the real frozen landscape is coming.

Real snow is about to descend.

cover

OUT NOW

Solitude sometimes completes

Quiet is the night that falls into me.
Spreading the inky blackness all over my soul.
God smears it on my eyes.
The devil breathes it into my lungs.
Dark replaces lonely.
And as the moon crescents and pierces the void.
I stumble quickly into a knowing.
Dropping fear like shrouds of revelations.
Collapsing into a nothingness bliss.
Swimming in solitude.

Second sight

Going towards the resolve, the 20/20 equaling higher.
A Fissure in my memory, wraps around the stillness.
I allow the world to hum and clatter around me.
All in its beautiful chaotic busyness.
Your X-rays burn through, avoiding the heart and preventing the cancer.
This realness drifts up towards heaven.
You cherish it all, pulling it close to smell the stench of love.
We are everything.
This blindness no longer fits me, like all of these clothes we shed.
Cast like tears in space.
Swimming in ignorance makes me long for bliss.
Thank god for you. Your bones and skin.
This place where your feet touch the ground is now sacred.
Where you breathe is where I take a picture.
You heart I steal as a souvenir.
Still like the frosted birds and the rocks we climbed upon.
The sand where we walk each year, burying time like a box of treasure.
Refracting in your presence, I see your glory in my second sight.
Your cat eyes shimmer, as I count your nine lives.
Trying to keep up.
As your eyes set sail for the horizon.
Anchoring us to the future.
Blinking away the memory of pain forever.

Sailing into your soul

Though the universe spins on your finger.
And the moon sets and falls in your eyes.
I can see the space left in-between us.
The road of lost good intentions and pride.
Now as the ghosts settle into their cupboards.
And the demons hide under our bed.
I will drip further into your madness.
Caught up in your sleepy cobwebs.
For my soul is no longer loyal.
It betrays my needs for yours.
It would throw me into your ocean,.
To further the movement of your oars.
As your little boat heads towards Neverland.
And my truth falls slowly to sleep.
Into your dreams I will tiptoe.
Blind to the wonders so deep.
I renounce my agnostic position.
I bow to every whim you command.
I will crucify my own indignation.
Through the flicker and twist of your hand.
Because all I want is your happiness.
To germinate from our love and our light.
That is why I cling like a barnacle.
To your boat and your soul so tight.

Dislocate

This life, that fear of loving.
Of believing what is all around here.
A junction in your bones, fragile and misdirected.
Second hand bodies that fall like sad embarrassed eyes.
Only when the lights are out.
These fears call out your name.
Swim into your dreams and pollutes this bloodstream.
Who touched that velvet treasure?
You take rib, and scream a pleasure.
I feel the truth like each vertebrae.
You dislocate.
You propagate a new feeling within me.
A love so tender and tasty, it reeks of construction.
Of chaos and completion.
Slid off the bone of life.
All the noise seems to fade away.
To a coffin quiet existence that allows me to hear the future.
While you cover this love in salt for protection.
And I hold your bones in mine.
Counting the path of your spine.
Silently whispering to the angels a thanks.
For returning what once was ours.

Sky bled a disappearing

A road to nowhere led me here.
Calling out into the trees.
Feeling my body vanishing.
All dust and disappointment.
What was buried underneath these feet?
The remains of a devil buried in haste.
From where I stand, all it reminds me of is home.
Alone and lost.
Confused by the fading colours and light.
Once these words are found, this life of someone else.
A skin and soul that hangs not in your heart.
Or flickering ever on your eyelids.
Will be but faded moments in time hung on dying trees.
These hands are scratching in the dark.
Once more looking for a way to disappear.
Removing this life, to that of a ghost.
Fading into the trees, to entertain the absent.
And no one looking.

Winter descends

Winter comes, like all the seasons.
Betrays the summer with its frozen reasons.
Killing off the leaves which cling so desperate to the branch.
And in my own mind’s yearly tree.
I hunker down quite hastily.
Sparing the blossoms of my head for another notch of time.
Surrounded and lost by love and laughter.
A festive phase much sought-after.
Frozen in the static of knowing where it all began.
So begin to fold the year away.
For memories linger but rarely stay.
Till’ soon it’s all forgotten like a love we had before.
And now the snow fills up my veins.
Frost and sadness cause fresh new pains.
And these bones are breaking to the cold creeping across the floor.
Yet while isn’t bleak and cold mid-winter.
There is a promise we can disinter.
Not guaranteed, there is a spring around God’s open door.
So enjoy the snow for it has never lasted.
A fading dust seasonally granted.
A beauty in the frozen landscape of winter’s yearly dance.
Make merry while you turn and tide.
Smile and bow to December’s bride.
Then greet tomorrow’s calendar with a better version than before.

Sweet dreams

Quiet, shhh; let the dreams take hold.
Block out the hurt, the noise and the cold.
Drift into the world of the never before seen.
A place where neither you nor I have been.
Those stories will unfold like the tail of a fairy.
Some of them tall, colourful and scary.
With places that can hide you when life gets too much.
Where you are brave and beautiful; and no longer touched.
Here is freedom wrapped in a space.
A wonderful illusion of time in a place.
So let the dreams now explode in your head.
All from the apparent safety of your bed.

Lost illusions

Fold the world into silence.
Mute the lava that runs through our core.
Bubbling into frantic action.
When anger shows.
So many lives, repeated like a failing student.
Brought back time and again, yet never the same.
Lessons drip from these eyelids.
Lies smother the eyes of such hopeful.
Innocence trapped in ice.
Drop these illusions like a weight of the moon.
Flung out into the cosmos, only to orbit your world.
God eclipses such distant.
Love replaces the fear of the known.
Nobody knows what is yet to come.

Harley Holland

Through extreme pressure and heat the coarse sugar melted down and was squeezed out through tiny holes; This molten sugar spread through the air, cooling, and catching on the sides of the steel drum. Clutching one another, this once hard crystal was now lighter, and like webbing it danced in the light growing thicker as the motion continued. Levi watched how it waited, almost invisible to his eyes, until he placed the long stick down into the machine. Like an adder it snapped at the stick and coiled its body around, darkening its glistening threads to a thick and puffy pink. Seconds later it was fat and ready to be consumed.

Levi raised the stick from the machine and admired its sixties beehive hairstyle shape. The kid next to him stared at it wide-eyed and waited for Levi to move out the way before taking hold of the stick from…

View original post 1,140 more words

Monolith

The coldness we took for indifference.
Or the rising arctic waters.
That strangled scream or misplaced regret.
In our dead vast emotional forest.
Snow covered and silent.
Epic, only in the place of such failure.
The cool touch and horror sprung elation.
In vibrating closer towards the unknown.
Touch me once and shiver.
Lick the emptiness that withers.
The monolith planted now inside our souls.
A place no-one goes.

(Though it’s dead I cannot see, the monolith in front of me)

What if it were all an illusion?
This repeated loop and monumental oak.
What knowledge hoots and chimes in its branches?
What reasoning is tucked away in its roots?
Though the city hums and breathes a static.
This monolith covers all in shadow.
Waiting to be lifted again.
By such fragile divine fingers from above.

Accepting Submissions

Raw Earth Ink

Hello there poetry writers! Want to be a part of an amazing anthology project and see your poetry published? Raw Earth Ink is opening submissions for next year’s themed poetry collection: The Poets Symphony.


Anthology Title: The Poets Symphony: Verses, Melodies, and Lyrical Poems

Description: a collection of poetry with a specific overall theme

Theme: music; each poem must be specifically tied to and include the theme of music. This may include song titles, band names (known or made up), musical terms such as ‘notes, keys, major, minor, arpeggios’ etc, genres (like country, heavy metal, classical, etc), poetry read as lyrics (notating verses, choruses, bridges, etc), musical instruments, and all points between. This should not be ambiguous but obvious to the reader.

Submission deadline: 31st December 2019

Submission piece length: 10-80 lines (including blank lines), with preference given to 16-40 line pieces; a line…

View original post 720 more words

Growth in young

You live for the days of silence.
Of echoes in your mind.
Casting back to a time that tastes of weightlessness.
Those days that feel like rain, but move like summer.
Yellow hazed on a cut grass tear blade dripping like dew.
To fold and keep in your pocket.
Is the secret whisper you have to God.
As the days roll into the darkness.
Dulling in the rotten tree that towers in your home.
Just for a moment, hope the leaves don’t blow away in the storm.
For once, the anchor of hope is enough to keep it alive.
Those days of air, all breath and intimate.
Turning over in your hands that wrinkle in the water of time.
Hush, to those calls that take you down into the marrow.
And hang your spirit high on the branches that reach instead to the sky.
Weeping willowy tears to the things your wished you’d known.

The Projectionist – Chapter One

Begin the journey, but mark your way!

Harley Holland

Oliver stared at himself in the circular mirror. Wiping the condensation from the surface he saw the air gather against it and droplets pool together before sliding down. This was his second shower of the evening. He stood there in the spray, letting the force crash against his face and closed eyes. Gradually turning the temperature dial one peg colder each time until unbearable. Then with gritted teeth and clenched muscles he counted down to ten. Never reaching zero, switching back to five again and again, until he could not cope with the sharp sting of the icy water. The shower had done its purpose though; he was more awake than ever.

The plughole gurgled and spat across from him. A shadow darted over the sink upwards, Oliver span his head to see the fluttering of a moth attempting to land on the cornflower yellow wall.

It was barely alive…

View original post 2,651 more words

Dormant

What becomes of the people who have moved on?
The ones that forget your name?
A soul has healed and the hurt vacates.
Yet deep inside, covered in black.
Surrounded by the walls of lack.
A tiny grain remains.
And a name, once called in love and hate.
Spins forever like a tiny planet on an axis.
Wobbling against the curve of life.
Dormant, yet waiting.
To rise like a Pisces out of the space of time yet come.

Marker: Black bones vanished

To leave this weary land, is like turning off a light.
My tiny heart is shattered into a million little pieces.
Please understand.
I can no longer fight.
My black bones crumble and my eyes bleed.
And this heart struggles, squeezed by a ghost of a dream I once made.
You lost your way, but are happy with what you found.
Caught between goodbye and complications.
I long for more than this, and the sky above is opening.
I must leave, so please understand my departure.
For to remain allows the belief that I understand.
And linger like a taste in your mouth.
So I will disappear, like words of love and forever.
Muttered into my ear as you cum.
But my exit wounds will never heal.
And your soul, that I tried to steal, will freeze in your bones.
That walk and creak to a lonely death.
Silently stuttering my name.

Buds and bones

If this is the last and the final time.
Then button my eyes and draw the line.
And keep me hidden beneath the ground.
Where earthly secrets and worms are found.
For if you are not the beat of my heart.
Then into death my journey must start.
And silence my mind as it heaves to you.
Kill this love which you’ve broke in two.

Calling out in the dark

Smother and blanket, the ashen world of night.
What deeds are done when all cats look grey?
Who calls to you, when the moon has risen?
That inner part, that secret self.
Exploding in a fountain of stars.
When no eyes can follow, and your dreams are laid.
You left your bones asleep.
And followed the call into the dark.
Beyond the woods, above the trees.
A calling like a ghost on the breeze.
And a voice inside came alive, speaking out and in tongues.
A religion long buried, now dusted off with great movement.
You travel to the moon, and night swim in their minds.
Licking your fingers to the magic left behind.
Darkness and dawn.
Shedding skin and cells.
Becoming what you always knew you were.
You’re new state of being blind.

Empire

A moment, while the construction lifts.
As the walls do fall, and earth does shift.
I see the world confined in your eyes.
A future tale, where light does hide.
And in that breath you kill completely.
Decaying past, swept up so sweetly.
That now I raise our love much higher.
My new religion. Our new empire.

Stay with me

Collide into this dream, let the future bruise your skin.
Watch as the sky throbs, threatening vast cascades of wonder.
What protection do we need from happiness?
Let it infect and spread through these hollow veins.
You turn the tide on systems put there to reject us.
Disconnecting in a shower of sparks which burn out.
Feel the ocean, swallow the sky.
Dive into these eyes so removed from where they came.
That shaded palm. That box under your lungs.
Cut me deep with diamonds and watch me bleed gold.
For my future is now sold, and I give it over to you.
The ribs of my house that promises home.

Surface tension

Casting eyes to a blackening sky.
Shivering under circumstance.
Move this body to a state of change.
Sinking these broken teeth into something new.
It ripples in the heart and hangs heavy in the air.
A surface tension which paralyses.
It came up from the lava beds beneath.
Strummed, from the line to God.
This world swims in static like rain in the heat.
Fuzzing the wavelength and heralding pain.
It travels through these nerves.
That crimson city circuit beneath this skin,
which is fraying at the edges.
A thread of truth pulls like a vein to my heart.
Collapsing these teeth to the dust of a civilisation past.
It’s now the song in your chest.
Beneath the static pool of pressure lies the stone.
Dropped in by the devil years before to break the strain.
We swam in the sins of the moment.
Now this headache hangover heaves like yesterday’s terrible news.
And the stone sits under us, digging into our bones.
What breaks such tension?
What spirits such relief?
I look into chalky eyes and tired faces to find an answer.
It will lie, either in sleep or the deep.
For that’s where most fears shelter.
That’s where monsters are always slain.
Isotopic reactions, thundering like the rain.

 

Static Dreams Volume 1 – Release Date

Raw Earth Ink

Helllooo all you lovely people. I know. I’ve been quieter than normal around here but that’s only because I’ve been working on this:

Ohhh yes, my friend, you see that correctly. Right here in my hands, well, not currently because I type with both hands *ahem* but recently I held it and caressed it just a little because inside these pages comes a great collection of works I am very proud of.

The anthology (in its first volume) contains nine short stories from a group of really awesome writers. I am so humbled to work with these guys. Truly.

Sooo, I’ve set the release date for the 25th of October… yes, you too can gently caress, or hold in your shaky grip, depending on how darkly twisted you really are, Raw Earth Ink’s first anthology. The second one will be out later this year, for those of you counting.

Need…

View original post 75 more words